The ghost wolf howls it’s mournful howl. The howl echoes across the night air, other voices join in. Louder they howl, their voices mingling forming one solid voice against all that might be out in the darkness. Like in so many of his visions now, the blood moon’s staring gaze looks down upon the land. The air is thick like smoke… the smoke rising from the many battlefields across the planet. How… how had their enemy reached out with his tentacles to corrupt so many.

He awoke to the touch of the cool night air of Grom’gol camp deep in the heart of the stranglethorn jungle against the hot sweaty skin of one awoken from a nightmare too real... and yet in his mind he still heard the pack howling to the moon...

His mind raced once more…

The tribe had found hints of danger all around them.

Their once allies of the so called alliance were failing.

The gnomish homelands were corrupted beyond reclaim.

The humans had internal forces seeking to tear them apart from the inside. Even as their people of two continents seemed as disconnected as the land they lived upon.

The dwarves and their cousins were still fighting with each other. The spirits only knew what dark schemes were being hinted at within the citadel of the dark dwarves. The elder pack of Tanti, Leyota, Brecken, Sid and Gambreezi reports didn’t explain much, but offered hints of a dark picture being painted.

Forgotten temples all across the realm were thick from the smoke of sacrificial fires. Seeming all of them filled with dark cults seeking to return even fouler gods from the depths of the twisting nether.

And still the spirits warned… the burning legion had not forgotten their shame of being kicked off of this world. And even worse, traitors of the worst kind were seeking to bring their return. Would they be strong enough again?

Even now there was apparently a call for both sides to once again put aside their differences for a new threat of… bugs in the south. He still could not believe that this was a threat on the scale of the others. But soon he might have to take a trip for himself to see.

Even now, news of the forsaken’s plot to destroy all he held dear came to surface. New plagues and poisons were being developed….and worse tested and refined. Informants and spies had shown them the truth, had gotten them a glimpse before it would be too late.

The pack in his mind howled out its’ fear and mourning…until there was none left. There was only room left for courage, and anger.

What words were spoken at their last gathering was true. The tribe was already at war, whether it wanted to admit it or not.

War for survival was already upon them. Their enemies came from many directions, in many forms. The tribe was strong, but it would have to be even stronger. It would have to look for allies they could trust. And it would have to react... or soon no longer be predators but prey.

The pack had to grow, had to get stronger. No longer could they be like wolves; They had stayed in the background, content to grow stronger, to hunt among the shadows, to take down their prey quickly and quietly and drag it away from the eyes of others to be consumed. No longer... the peaceful bliss of childhood was over for the tribe. But they were nearly ready. So proud of his tribe was this one of many...

Already Brecken was looking at the possibilies among the once forsaken… might others be found and brought into the family; perhaps less of their lost souls, and more of those of a warrior or perhaps murderous soul ready for the necessities of war? Could those be trusted? They would have to be very careful…. For if word got out… spies from the dark lady herself would come and try to breed dissention among the pack.

Already Gambreezi and Angr have spoken about the power of the warlock ways. They spoke of a need for a core of folks with the discipline to use such power for the good of the tribe; Of setting up a path for others to follow, for others to learn. Could those that nearly destroyed his people be trusted to grow in power in a collective once more? Would throwing away a valuable weapon against their enemies be letting their enemies win?

The other natural alphas of the pack had started to step forward. Some leading into the depths of the lost places helping to find out what little they knew. Some helping the tribe survive with their growing talents and skill in metal, leather and cloth. Some helping those remember the old ways, to keep honor in their hearts. Some helped to remind the pack of the joy of living and reasons they would fight in the battles to come ahead.

So much to do… the battles ahead would indeed be worthy of remembrance. May the Spirits and Ancestors watch over them all.

And looking up to the sky, the Tribal Alpha of the Tribe of the Bad Moon Rising shifted to the form of his totem the ghost wolf to add his own voice to the night… to take over where the spirits wolves left off... to howl out in challenge to the growing hint of red he now saw starting to reach across the face of the moon.

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OOC: ok everyone, i'm trying something. A IC reaction mood thread. After an evening of visions and thoughts. There have been some major realizations in the last few days for everyone. Does the spirits send you visions? How do respond to the news... What are your IC thoughts on everything. Feel free to assume that the totem of the tribe has sent you the thoughts and visions of the Alpha if you wish *grins*

Once again in the shadows of three great pyramids, Raja stands with three great friends and a legend. Lizra and El'theron had fought with him in Stranglethorn and in many ways introduced him into the ways of the tribe; Padrote was a recent recruit just finding his feet. Legendary Ironbadger strode to the base of the altar and added his weight to the summoning of the goddess.

As Lizra finished intoning the ritual naming, the spider goddess awoke, erupting from the center pool in a spray of water and chitonous limbs. Raja, shocked at the size of the beast, watched as Ironbadger strode down to the lakeside with armaments ready, but as the warrior reached the goddess, he turned and waved his fairwell, fading into mist.

Padrote shrugged his goodbye as well; Lizra and El'theron merely teleported away. Raja, in a panic, attempted to as well, only to find that the magic wouldn't come.

But there was another. Standing beside him was the spirit wolf he met before, and this time, Raja heard him clearly. *You are not alone. You are pack. Fight this corruption, and we fight together.* With a snarl of defiance, Raja hurled blasts at the arachnid monstrosity coming towards him...

With a shock, Raja awoke to bright lights and flames. Scrambling out of bed, Raja scrambled back to the stone wall of his inn room. Well, at least da orcs don' build too much dat's flamable, thought Raja, as he watched the bed turn to ash. Time ta settle up wit' anot'er innkeeper.

Raja's mother stands before him, railing upon his head accusations of sloth and irresponsibility. Though he nods to her contritely, his vision is locked on a couple of orcs wandering around the back of Sen'Jin, wearing red sashes and offering words to young-looking trolls. As each troll is spoken to, he or she becomes wrapped in flames, and steps into line behind the orcs.

Even as he watches, the orcs step up to his mother, who also bursts into flames. *Join the Burning Blade,* whispers the larger orc. *Join us in service.* Raja runs.

As he runs, a wolf runs with him. *You don't need to be alone.*

Pausing in Razor Hill, Raja catches his breath and looks over the pack that has now gathered. *Dis corruption spreads too fast!,* Raja screams, *Dey tak our homes! How we fight?*

Raja awakens to the squeel of a boar dying, and rises to have part in Sen'Jin's evening feast.

Merell sat in front of the fire in the Den. Gazing into the flames her sight shifted and her hands tapped a rhythm on the drum propped in her lap. She closed her eyes tapping the drum in tune with the heartbeat of the earth below her. Soon she began humming beneath her breath, a low pleasant rumble. Slowly the spirit wolf blew in and formed sitting across from her. Opening her eyes she gazed into his yellow gold eyes.

Hello pack sister, it is good you are with us now. I have known your soul a long time.

Merell’s drumming became much like that of battle drums heard from far off, faint yet pulsing low in the vein. Her voice aching she begins a song that she vaguely remembers from elsewhere in another time.

Covered in dirt and mud
Aching and spitting blood
Cursing you stir to rise and groan
Muffled in yet to come,
Mutters a battle drum, wolves don’t walk alone

Think on the battle cost, this time the wolf has lost
Beaten and broken and blind
Better beware my lord, better prepare my lord
I was the least of my kind

Prying my sword blade cold, out of my fingers hold
Pause to take stock, reflect and rue.
Look on the damage done, here by a single one
What do you think a full pack will do.

Think on the battle cost, this time the wolf has lost
Beaten and broken and blind.
Better beware my lord, better prepare my lord
I was the least of my kind.

Careless I came by chance, joining in battles dance
Slain in a fight I could not win
Far off a wolf pack hears, heads turn with pricking ears

Thought you my lord that I had no kin?

Think on the battle cost, this time the wolf has lost
Beaten and broken and blind.
Better beware my lord, better prepare my lord
I was the least of my kind.

The spirit voice joined hers, howling crisp and clear into the night sky the fire illuminating them both.

Merell turns to him, tears streaming from her eyes. The wolf nods to Merell
::We are kin now, we will fight, live, laugh, cry, morn and die by each other.::

With an ache born of years looking in from the outside, Merell throws her arms around the wolf and keens her loss for her parents and siblings. The wolf joins her voice with his own, lending support and understanding. Finally the years of buried grief came to the front, she was safe, she could take time to morn for those lost, and cherish their memory in love. She remembered her father, with his long mane of braided hair, woven with the tokens of his mate, her mother. She remembers her scent, always elbow deep in the earth and plants. She remembers a little sister, who mercifully died before she could comprehend the attack on her family.

Broken memories of the time, merged into her consciousness of now and she saw the wolf guide with her as she made her escape from that raid.

::You have been here a long time:: she thought to him.

::You have been watched, you have been judged, and you have been found worthy. Join me clan sister, we will run the earth tonight::

Merell flowed into her own form, the great planes cat who rejoiced with her in the run, and ran with the Spirit into the night. She knew that if we all ran together no one could ever threten the heart of the Pack and Tribe. We have kin, we are not alone, we are fierce and when we join together we are far stronger than ever we are alone.

At dawn Merell found herself still drumming and staring into the flames. Tears had dampened her muzzle and cheeks, but her heart was lighter than it had been in a long time.

They faced grave danger yes, but they were not alone. She would be sure to remind the pack that as one they are stronger than ever they would be alone.

Snapping out of his day dream, Raja approaches the den, and watches the others chatting. "Hullo tribe. I's need a vision. Da wolf, he be speakin' ta me, but I's no' so good at lis'nin', an' he's gettin' persistant. Som'tin's comin', but I's canno' tell what."

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((OOC: This is the end of Raja's dreams in response to Tran'nok's vision, at least for the moment; Raja's just a little thick-headed, and the actual vision will stay clouded to him for a while, but not the truth behind it. He just needs interpreters when talking to wolves. ))

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